Green Is A Guise  Trailer Chapter
by XxBloodsbanexX
Summary: Buttercup is forced to get a job; Ace is forced to clean up his act; Buttercup has to wear a maid outfit and Ace might have to break up the Gang. Well, at least they still have each other to tease. Sequel to Primary Pleasures. Trailer Only!


**Hello there. I was thinking, since I'll still be working on Blissfully Ill for a while, that I'd give all of my PPG fans something to look forward to. Since I'm only concentrating on mini-fics (see Tragic Piggies and Wonka Syndrome) while trying to finish Blissfully Ill, I don't have time to work on any of the other fics I'd like to spend a lot more time on. Hence I give you... a trailer! **

**I've wanted to do a Sequel for Primary Pleasures since I finished the other fic, but I still don't have any time to spend on it. However, I've written this first chapter, and seeing it lying in my Doc Manager list unread just made me sad. So here's a quick look in what you'll be seeing once I'm done with BI! **

**Please, PLEASE review once you read this - if you favorite or alert, I ask that you review first. I'd love to know how eager anyone is for this to come out, because believe me when I say this, it'll TOTALLY get me to finish BI faster. I'm such a lazy writer, I need a poke in the face with a stick every now and then just to get moving.**

**Anyways, read and enjoy, but mostly just review. And this is ONLY A TRAILER, so don't expect any updates. **

**However, there might be a part two, and in that case you get a chappy in Ace's POV! (Also Trailer).**

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**Chapter 1**

**Summer Green**

"Bubbles!"

"What!"

"For the hundredth time, let me in!"

"Buttercup, it's the last day of school. I have to look pretty!"

Buttercup, still clad in her wrinkled pajamas, huffed and kicked the door. "What does it matter anyway?"

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" Bubbles asked, her voice defensive.

The older puff folded her arms, growling, "Everyone knows you're just going to end up bawling your heart out - you did it last year! You're eyes are going to look like they're leeking oil, with all that liner I know you're putting on!"

Buttercup waited, but Bubbles had decided not to respond, and she could hear the blonde's breathing hitch. She groaned, knowing what was about to come and feeling slighly guilty that she really didn't want to have to deal with it. But only slightly.

The powerpuff quickly flew downstairs, a stream of green light marking her way. She passed by the professor, who had to throw himself out of the way. The wind from Buttercup's flight blew the newspaper right from his hands.

"Buttercup! I thought I told you no flying in the house!"

"Yeah, yeah." Buttercup turned the corner and let herself fall gently to her feet before another white door, similar to the one upstairs. Pounding on it, she called, "Blossom, you done yet? I need to take a shower and Bubbles is hogging the upstairs bathroom."

"Ninety-one, ninty-two, ninety-three-"

Buttercup leaned onto the door and put the side of her face against it. "Blossom? Can you hear me?"

"Ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine-"

"Blossom!" Buttercup shouted in impatience, kicking the door in her frustration. She heard her sister shout, obviously startled by the sudden loud noise, and a crashing sound followed. Buttercup winced. She began to slowly edge away from the door, but couldn't escape fast enough.

Blossom threw the door open and walked right up into Buttercup's face. The redhead's hair - which was usually straight, even when she first woke up - had been yanked from it's neat wave and was now bunched up into a shape that looked a lot like Beebo. Wielded in her fist like a weapon was a broken hairbrush, a chunk of her red hair tangled in it's claws.

Buttercup blinked, her back having hit the wall. Blossom was getting very close - the green puff was sure she was growling. "Uh... nevermind. I can just skip the shower. I don't smell that bad anyway..."

Blossom opened her mouth, about to say something, but then changed her mind. She settled on slamming the door in Buttercup's face.

Buttercup sighed in relief. She'd been spared. For now.

XxX

School was so lively, and the woeful air that dampened the hallways made Buttercup feel sick. Wherever she went, left and right, were crying teens. They held each other as if for dear life, completely oblivious to the fact that they lived right next to each other and would be back to school in less than three months. A length that, in Buttercup's own opinion, was not enough time for her to recover from the stress of school.

The sounds of goodbyes filled each hallway, each room, and Buttercup found it hard not to scream in anger. They were making a big deal out of absolutely nothing! They would still be seeing each other on a daily bases.

She was thankful that the day was nearly over. All she had to do was survive P.E, and then it would all be over. And P.E. was definitely better than having to hear all this whining.

But things just couldn't go Buttercup's way, not even for once. Instead of spending the last hour of their shortened day in the gym, they were all told to go to the cafeteria, where there would be an end-of-the-year presentation, which would announce and honor all of the straight A students - it would also include a very long, very boring speech given to them by the class president. Give you three guesses who _that _was.

As if Buttercup didn't listen to Blossom's lecturing enough at home. She sat in her chair, slumped, with her feet bouncing on the back of Bubbles's own seat. The blonde girl had asked Buttercup to quit it more than once, but the middle child ignored her, brooding.

It was all just _so __stupid_. Buttercup personally didn't understand why they had to make such a big deal out of it. It was only their sophomore year; they still had two more years of high school to plow through until they would really be leaving. And even then, truly, how many of these kids would ever leave Townsville? Sure, maybe a quarter of them would get tired of the constant explosions, the evil monkeys, the mysterious rate at which the building's reconstruct themselves. But most would never leave. Students like Mitch and Elmer, who both have had very personal experiences in Townsville, would never leave. This was one of the few things Buttercup knew for sure.

She sighed. She would never leave either. Buttercup knew she was tied to this cursed town, probably for the rest of her not-so-natural born life. How could she ever leave? Bubbles and Blossom wouldn't be able to protect the town by themselves, she knew this for a fact. How many times had their own individual efforts failed, or caused even more trouble? Countless. And though it pained Buttercup to admit it, she was nearly powerless without her sisters on either side of her.

The speech was long and drawn out, just like everything else Blossom ever said. Buttercup huffed loudly, throwing back her head in boredom. She heard Mitch snicker beside her. He had been speaking with one of his stupid guy friends, and was pointing in the direction of the upper rows of chairs. Buttercup sat up from her slouch and tilted her head towards Mitch's to get a better look. Tracing the boy's line of vision, she caught sight of a boy, his figure hunched. It took Buttercup a second to recodnize him, but after a glimps of him lifting his hand and putting something in his mouth, Buttercup let out a snort.

It was Elmer S'glue, that dorky kid in kindergarten who ended up being kind of cool. Buttercup smirked and glanced over at Mitch, who was chuckling to himself and chewing on something she suspected was not gum.

From what Buttercup could see, it didn't look like Elmer had ever dropped his habit of glue eating. He would sit hunched in his chair, staring at Blossom as she made her speech (at least, Buttercup thought he was paying attention. His classes were so thick you couldn't see his eyes very well), and after about twenty seconds or so he would reach down into a jar he had in his hand and eat another handful of glue.

Though Buttercup didn't know Elmer too personally or hang out with him, they sometimes talked or sat at the same table at lunch (surprisingly he fell into Mitch's good graces during middle school and was now a part of the brunette's 'group'). He wasn't a tall teenager, and almost always hunched when he sat down. He was accustomed to wearing longsleeved shirts and jackets, usually with high collars and in warm colors. Buttercup, though she didn't really let it show, quite liked Elmer S'glue. He was quiet, but not the kind of creepy quiet like those kids who plot to kill everyone. And he was smart, but not in your face smart. More like you could copy off of his answers smart. And he was cool because he would _let _you copy off of his homework, which was a fact that Buttercup _did_ know personally and never failed to take advantage of. Not that the boy approved of everyone copying his homework, but he was just too passive to say no to anyone who asked.

Another thing about Elmer was that, though sweet and smart and all around a pretty okay guy, he was the bane of many females. Why? Well, it might have something to do with his pasty, white skin. Or maybe it was the slight green glow of his eyes, which you would never fail to notice when he took his glasses off to clean them. It was a certain green glow that reminded everyone, both male and female, of something like radioactive waste. Perhaps it was how his skin was quite smooth yet almost gooey to the touch. Or, Buttercup guessed, it was his nasally voice, which had gotten even worse since kindergarten because of his excessive glue-eating. The paste clogged his nasal cavities and chest, and made it hard for the boy to breath or talk without gasping or wheezing.

Elmer definitely was _not_ Buttercup's type, but she had to admit, there was something enduring about him, _cute_ even. She liked how he kept his blonde hair cut so closely to his scalp - not much of it existed, save for the long, wavy bang that fell in his face. Buttercup also liked how Elmer spoke slowly and as clearly as he possibly could. It did get annoying at times, but at the same time it was relaxing.

Mitch snickered again, pulling Buttercup from her thoughts and she watched as the boy hunched over and raised a straw to his mouth. She watched his tongue move against the wad of paper she knew he had in his mouth, and after a second of careful aiming, Mitch breathed deeply through his nose and prepared to shoot.

But then he sneezed.

Mitch blew all right. But because of his unexpected sneeze, the spit ball took a little detour. It went just a _bit _too high, sailed over Elmer's head, and hit someone else right between the eyes.

The brunette panicked and shoved the straw into Buttercup's hands. The girl was too distracted to notice; the tried to contain her laugher as Blossom was cut off in her speech, a look of horror slowly crossing her features. It wasn't until the other teenagers began laughing that Buttercup knew it safe to do so herself.

Blossom was seething, her eyes raking through the crowd in search of the perpitrater who had disrupted her elegent and well-planned speech. Buttercup whiped a tear from her eye and gave Mitch the oh-you're-gonna-get-it-now look, but the boy was sitting back, tying to look as casual as possible and not looking at the raven-haired girl beside him. Buttercup frowned and then noticed that the straw was no longer in his hands.

A gasp. Buttercup looked up to see Bubbles staring at the straw, now nestled in her own sister's nubby hands. Buttercup opened her mouth to explain, but it was too late. Other children were already turning to look at who had caused the disturbance, and Blossom was red in the face now.

"BUTTERCUP!"

XxXx

People were always whining about wanting their fifteen minutes of fame. Buttercup rolled her eyes as she sat on the clean white couch. Earlier, she'd been waiting for the Professor to finish speaking with her principal. Everyone else had already left, including her two sisters, and the green puff was eager to get going as well. Her fifteen minutes of fame? Being chased around by her sister and dragged away to the office the second she was caught. No one even bothered to acknowledge her pleas, telling them that it wasn't her that shot the spitball but Mitch. Of course, no one believed her - she'd been caught red handed.

So now, two hours later the Professor had called her downstairs after sending her straight to her room without dinner. The green puff's stomach growled. She glanced at the kitchen, but it seemed so far away, especially knowing what awaited her.

The Professor, Bubbles and Blossom were talking in the other room, leaving Buttercup to brood alone in the living room. The TV remote was lost again, but Buttercup didn't much feel like looking for it anyway. There wasn't much point - if she was going to loose TV privileges, it was better not to salt the wounds before they even opened.

Eventually her family came back into the room, and Buttercup sank lower into the couch. She'd thought about arguing, trying again to tell them it had been Mitch that shot the spitball, but knew it would be useless to resist. She could tell the Professor had made his mind - his arms were crossed and he was not wearing his usual smile. Blossom, on the other hand, was smirking behind his back at Buttercup. She couldn't _wait _for the green puff go get what she deserved for ruining her magnificent speech. Bubbles was simply watching, a bit further off from the others, and even offered Buttercup an encouraging smile. The middle child scoffed and turned away, but quietly thanked Bubbles on the inside.

"Buttercup..." The Professor's voice was dark and ominous, and Buttercup sat up straighter. She wanted to say something, anything to try and convince them she was innocent but knew she didn't have a chance. But when the Professor also called Blossom and Bubbles's names, all three girls were surprised. "Professor-"

"Blossom," the Professor cut her off, "would you and Bubbles take a seat with your sister?" It sounded like a question, but they knew it was a command. Buttercup schooted over so that Bubbles was in the middle and all three girls could fit. The Professor stood before them, and before Blossom could question his actions, he spoke. "I just got a call from your principal saying that the _real _colpret who shot the spitball at Blossom confessed not long after you and I left, Buttercup."

"Wow, really?" Buttercup couldn't believe it. Mitch Michelson confessed rather than let her take the blame? It didn't sound much like him. Buttercup leaned into the couch, suspecting that someone had either tricked him or persuaded him into doing it. She'd have to find out as soon as possible.

"What?" Blossom didn't look happy with the news, and Buttercup scowled. Of course she'd rather her own sister do it than someone else - she couldn't have Mitch punished close enough so that she'd be able to watch. "It couldn't have been Mitch because Buttercup was holding the straw!"

"I already told you that it wasn't me! He shoved the straw into my hand when I was laughing."

"Oh please, like you would be laughing that hard!"

"Yes! I was! Your face was hilarious!"

"Grrr!"

Bubbles frowned sadly. "Oh girls, please don't fight..."

"Stay out of this Bubbles!" Both Blossom and Buttercup shouted, and quickly returned to arguing. Bubbles, who had to remind herself she wasn't four anymore, held in her tears and only hugged onto Octi tighter, trying to melt into the couch. The Professor watched and crossed his arms, sighing. He knew what he had to do.

"Girls...Girls...! Girls! Blossom, Buttercup!"

Eventually the two puffs huffed, crossed their arms and turned away from each other, scowling. Bubbles whimpered at Buttercup's gaze and tried to hide her face with Octi's body.

"Listen you three, I have to say I'm very disappointed in all of you!"

"But Professor-"

"_No _buts! Now let me finish. The reason I'm so disappointed is because none of you had each other's backs. Buttercup, I heard about what you'd been doing before the incident - ignoring your sister's wonderfuly thought out speech and annoying Bubbles. I can't say it is unlike you, but I would have exepected more from a fifteen-year-old."

"Old habits die hard, I guess," Buttercup growled, shooting another glare in Bubbles's direction. The little snitch.

"And Bubbles, why didn't you stand up for your sister? Sure, she's mean and tormenting and a little bit sour-"

"Okay, we get it!"

"-but she's still your sister. Didn't you see who had shot the spitball?"

"Um... no. I really didn't. I thought Buttercup had done it, honest..."

The Professor sighed, and then with a frown deeply etched on his face, turned to Blossom. "Blossom, your actions surprise me most. How could you belive so quickly Buttercup wanted to humiliate you? You're sisters! You've been looking out for each other since you were little girls! And I could tell from your reaction that you were upset she wasn't to blame - don't deny it Blossom. You know how I hate lying, _even_ little white ones. We don't want any more of _those_ running around, do we?"

All three Powerpuff Girls sat in silence, hands on their laps, waiting for their punishment. But as the Professor pulled out a newspaper seemingly from nowhere, Buttercup quickly grew worried.

"I'm afraid you three seem to have lost your old unity," the Professor continued, presenting the newspaper. "Your teamwork, your friendship and your bond as sisters, what makes you great! And I have an idea on how to fix it. I've thought about this for a long time, you three, and so this summer I want all of you to-"

"No," Buttercup interupted, trying to shove the newspaper back into the Professor's hands. He did not take it, only took another step back. Buttercup stood and shouted, "No! Nu-uh Professor! All this year you've been making us do community service and stupid errends for even stupider people. I'm tired of it! And don't you think for a second I'm agreeing to this!"

"She has a point, Professor," Blossom added hesitantly, standing up herself and taking the newspaper from Buttercup's shaking fists. "I mean, we just got out of school. We already have plenty of work and responsibilities to keep up with. We can't do this, it isn't fair."

"What isn't fair?" asked Bubbles, ever her slow self. Buttercup angrily grabbed her by the ponytail, pulled her head over and quickly whispered into her ear. Bubbles's eyes whidened and she too shot up, leaning towards the Professor. "Oh no Professor, please don't! If we do that, we won't have time for our friends! It's summer! We have parties to see, pools to swim in, sleepovers to sleep... over at. What if... what if..."

"No 'if's, 'and's or 'but's about it girls. Tomorrow, you three are going-"

"Don't say it!" they cried. But the Professor ignored then and continued, condemning them.

XxXx

"How could he! I can't belive he's making us do this! The nerve!"

Buttercup prowled back and forth, kicking a plastic cup off her floor and sending it across the room. It landed on Blossom's vanity. The pink puff idly picked it up and tossed it into the trash bin beside her bed. "Stomping around and kicking things isn't going to make it better, Buttercup. It's not like we can do anything about it anyway."

"Why can't the Professor just stay out of our business, like he did when we were little? We've done community service, we've run stupid errands for the stupid people! Now this! The second we turned fifteen he's been all over us! He's invasive and annoying and... and... ugh!"

Buttercup threw herself onto her messy green bed, burying her face in a pillow and screaming shortly. It was an anger management thing, so she wouldn't stomp up and down the halls screaming instead. "When did he have to become an authority figure?"

"But he's our dad," Bubbles said, half hidden beneath the piles of stuffed animals on her looked over at her. Most of her body was hidden - only her head and one arm was visible. Octi was settled on her forehead, his tired eyes and permanent smile directed at Buttercup. The green puff felt chills run up her spine. Ever since that episode with Him, the toy octopus gave her the creeps.

"Bubbles is right," Blossom said. "We may not like it, but the Professor is our father. He created us. The least we can do is listen to him." Buttercup huffed and turned over. Spotting a VG comic beside her, she pulled it out from beneath a pillow sheet and flipped through it.

"Maybe it won't be so bad," Bubbles whispered, her voice hopeful. "We work faster and better than most people, so it shouldn't be too hard to get a job for all three of us." At the mention of the rules, Buttercup growled. She rolled off of her bed and angrily drew the curtains closed, separating her section of the room from theirs. "I thought summer vacation was to get _away _from work!"

Buttercup rolled her eyes as Blossom retorted but ignored her sister, throwing off her clothes until she was only in underwear. As the green puff began rummaging through her drawer for some pajama shorts, she heard her sisters do the same.

As Buttercup pulled on some baggy black shorts, Blossom said, "Bubbles is right. As long as we get along and do this, the Professor will be happy."

"And we'll be able to earn our own money," Bubbles continued happily. "We won't have to live off allowances."

Buttercup smiled and said, "Yeah, there's that at least. I still remember when the Professor tried to teach us the value of a dollar. My teeth still ache, you know."

Buttercup smirked as Bubbles shouted something like 'you so deserved it!', falling into her desk chair. She opened and closed drawers, looking for a hair-band to put her hair up with. Blossom floated over to the light switch, and when the lights clicked off Buttercup turned on her reading lamp. She listened to Bubbles and Buttercup settle down as she pushed aside old wrappers and broken pencils.

_Where's that stupid band? _Buttercup thought. She was sure she'd put it in one of these drawers just before school started. Maybe it was under one of these -

Buttercup's hand touched something cold and smooth. The girl frowned, dug it out and inspected it.

It was that stupid glass figure of Ace in all of it's irritating glory. Buttercup glared angrily at it, but the little Ace only seemed to smirk back, completely unfazed. Buttercup huffed and was about to stuff it back into the mess. Why had Ace even given her the figure anyway? Why had she kept it? Maybe it was because for once he was actually _pleasant _to talk to. He'd really been her only confident in a time she was so angry. It felt nice to have someone to talk to. And besides, Buttercup was sure if she'd ignored the cucumber that he'd go blabbing to everyone about her backstage singing.

Buttercup sighed. She held the little Ace up to the light again and turned him in a circle. She wasn't really thinking about anything now, mostly her mind was blank, all she could hear was white noise. Buttercup yawned and sighed through her nose, sitting up and gently putting the little Ace back in the drawer. As she pulled her hand out again, she noticed something caught in the side. Yanking it out, she smirked.

Buttercup pulled her hair back, flicked off the lamp and threw herself into bed again, kicking and squirming her way beneath the sheets. The teenager gripped her arms around her largest pillow and turned on her side, facing Bubbles's side of the room. Though a gap in the curtains, she could see the round green glow-in-the-dark bubbles rising up the baby blue walls like fireflies.

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